


Red and Gold Leaves

by Yogurtwood



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yogurtwood/pseuds/Yogurtwood
Summary: Sometime after leaving the mirror, Aaravos takes a walk through the forest and experiences some of those pesky emotions. A very small birthday fic for the character.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Red and Gold Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo... I know that I haven't updated my other fic yet but today is Aaravos' birthday and I wanted to write a little something anyway! I wrote this very fast and hesitated to post it here initially (it's also posted elsewhere) but I decided to try anyway. Have to remind myself that this is just for fun! As always feel free to leave a comment or a critique. :)

Aaravos wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had left the mirror. He knew he could have measured the time passing as he did before but something had stopped him from it. It felt almost as though if he could measure the passing of time once more then it meant that his time would once again be no longer his own, almost as if it was an early admission that he would once again be locked away. He could see quite well in the dark and produced his own light regardless. He was content in it. It was fine.

It was fine until the moment he stumbled across candles that someone else had lit and his mind had cruelly and quickly reminded him of all the times he had waved a hand to reform them during his time in the mirror and- and then he was there again in that magical prison with the smell of melting wax and the flickering of the flames in the corners of his eyes and the hopelessness of it all, the knowledge that they would keep him there _forever and beyond even that_ if they could, with no one no one there not a soul not a voice not even the stars to look for not even

_nothing nothing nothing_

Aaravos hadn’t lit a candle since he’d left the mirror and he extinguished every other candle that he came across.

Tonight the trees around him stood tall and straight, their branches reaching up towards an orange and red sky as the sun slowly sank beyond the horizon, casting a red glow onto the leaves. The floor beneath him seemed a reflection of the sunset itself, red and gold leaves littering the floor in its entirety. How long had it been, he wondered, how long since he had seen this season, with its cold breezes and red leaves? Since he had heard the crunching of leaves beneath his feet as he walked, the slow give of their stiffness under his feet and the strange feeling of satisfaction at their final crunch as they gave way?

The length of time didn’t matter, he decided, placing a star littered hand against the cold bark of the tree beside him, tracing a finger against the cracks and grooves that lined it, noting that the markings were as unique to the tree as the constellations on his skin were to him. Aaravos pressed a cheek against it, relishing the scrape of the bark against his skin and wrapped his arms across as far as they would stretch. He stayed there for who knew how long, pressed against it with eyes closed, the breeze ruffling through his hair. It felt good, the silence, with only the crackling of the leaves on the ground as the wind pushed them against one another, some being lifted from their branches. When he finally opened his eyes, it was only because a leaf had dropped on top his head, piece being caught on one of the points of his horns. He quite literally shook it off.

He kicked up storms of the leaves batting and crunching at them with his hands as they eventually fell back towards the earth, a few of them impaling themselves on the points of his horns as he abandoned all dignity and entered a sort of leaf kicking, catching frenzy that ended with him laying on the leaf littered ground with laughter bubbling out from his mouth, faint and unexpected at first but growing in strength until he felt himself moving with loud wrenching sobs that he tried to cover, unsuccessfully, with a hand. But it didn’t matter, the sobs came, wracking through his body as he dry heaved by the end of it, forcing himself to sit up and grasp at the star on his chest that was still dark, still not truly his, still a source of shame, a reminder of his failures, the reminder that his own people had helped put him there, bound him into weakness- a fallen star, something that should not exist something that would have been extinguished if not for their own pride and the hatred they felt for him.

It wasn’t until long into the night when he felt that he had managed to steady himself, the shudders and tremors that ran up and down his sides having since ceased that he finally truly let himself breathe, inhale deep. The tear tracks felt tight on his face and his eyes itched as he rubbed at them.

What did any of that matter?

He was here. It was now. The trees still shed their leaves, the sun still set and the constellation under which he had been born still blazed against the distant galaxy behind it.

He was here, Aaravos reminded himself, and in many ways he was freer than he used to be. And for now that was all that mattered.


End file.
